December 5th: Peace on Earth to the men of good will
by AllTheSnakes
Summary: The story I wrote for December 5th of SpoirDio Niles/CC Advent Calendar. Niles does something he has been thinking of for a while, but now he is not sure if it was a good decision.


_This story was published for the first time two years ago, at the first invitation of EspoirDio for her Niles/CC Advent Calendar. I've made some corrections and added more information, to our pleasure, for the 2013 version._

**December the 5th: Peace on Earth to men of good will**

**By AllTheSnakes **

Niles looked at his cup of tea; then, his line of vision descended upon the clean glass of his bedroom window.

He had been standing there, alone, in his darkened room, for a time he couldn't measure – he was too occupied trying to understand how he was feeling.

He had come to his room to be alone and think of how he had probably made the most wonderful and the most terrible thing of his life, in one single action.

**ncncncncncnc**

The night was cold, and the snow was falling outside. It was December the 5th, and if it was not enough that Christmas always made him touchy (the distance from his parents, the solitude from living with a family that was not exactly his own, but was the closer to a family he would ever have, were just the beginning of a long list), in the last two years he had had this morbid feeling that he should take a chance on Miss Babcock.

It began when he realized he never dated anyone in the last years, what made him always alone like a dog for the holidays.

(He knew for a fact that she was always alone like a dog, period.)

So, why not to try to enjoy whatever it was the thrilling feeling they had when they were in the same room? Why couldn't they find a way to let clear how much they enjoyed their closeness? Did they always have to cover things with a layer of pretended hatred?

Maybe it was time for Niles to face the fact that she was the most exciting, beautiful, interesting, witty and fiery woman he had ever met; that since the first moment his eyes laid upon her, he couldn't decide if he wanted to shout at her that he adored her confidence or that he despised her hurtful ways.

What he always knew was that he couldn't live with the idea of her being indifferent to him.

(That explained all the shouting at her he did in his mind, and all the name-calling he did in real life.)

He never thought poorly about himself: he had a quick wit, was cultured, could be charming when it was required…

(And now that he could see his reflection at the window, clad in a navy blue robe and with a mug on his hand, he would say he was a classy figure. More than one woman had told him he had beautiful eyes, charming smile, broad shoulders and the body of a hard-working guy…)

The question was: how could he maintain his self-confidence and still trust himself as a man if he was trying to impress one single woman for almost fifteen years and had not succeed?

Yes, he had her attention in a daily basis; from some time to now, he even got some very impressive answers, from her, that bordered on flirting.

But the bickering was making him crazy, once he admitted to himself her attentions are not enough anymore.

It's time to admit that he needs more than stares and words: he needs more physical contact than the brush of fingers while taking her coat or serving her a piece of cake he made especially for her; and, most of all, he needs to have the right to touch her whenever he wishes.

(Thinking better, he needs _her_ to touch _him_ whenever she wants, and not just when she thinks Maxwell is not around.)

Niles realized, earlier this night, that he could not live with this conflict anymore: she looks heatedly at him, throws playful and flirting remarks, even touches him in some inappropriate ways; but she never has a nice word for him: her words of praise and desire are always directed to their boss.

(He can't stand the notion that she talks about Maxwell but thinks about him, Niles, because it would mean that, even if she feels something strong for him, she would never admit it out loud.

And the thought makes him uncomfortably sad.)

He never dreamed of comparing himself to Maxwell Sheffield: he always knew he was smarter and more skilled than the businessman for almost anything.

Almost. Because Niles never found a woman with whom he fell in love with and that wanted to marry him, while Maxwell had made it at least twice.

Was it luck? Was it fate?

(And why was Niles thinking about having a woman he would fall in love with? Or that accepted to marry him? What did this have to do with the Ice Queen? Was it all the snow around messing with his head?)

Maybe it was just him, Niles, that didn't know how to choose. Maybe this sick infatuation for the blonde was just an illusion – and one that made him loose his time.

It felt so good to dream of her, to fantasize, that maybe he was keeping himself from getting closer, because he was afraid not just of her reaction, but his, too: maybe all of the things he guessed about her (the way she kissed when not drunk, the way she liked to be touched, the way she would deal with real love when she found it) were so far from reality he would loose his fascination and be left empty.

That was what had happened with Katherine, the housemaid – he lets people think he didn't have the guts to enter in a relationship with her, when, in fact, he didn't want to. She was available and was the sweetest girl he knew, but he wanted something more from a long-term relationship than tenderness and friendly companionship.

He never said a word to Katherine because he couldn't make up his mind, not because he was afraid. The only fear he had was of marrying someone just because it was comfortable, and being tied to a frustrating life, afterwards.

And that was the line of thinking that made him act like a fool, tonight: if he was not afraid of Babcock, if she was the one to move him deeply… What was stopping him of being sincere to her and say how much he… he…

He what? What did he feel for her? How could she be 'the one' for him, if he couldn't name his own feelings?

What did it mean that he felt drawn to her and to everything she did? That he found cute some of her most annoying traits, as her aggressiveness and bossy ways? That he worried every time she did something stupid that could jeopardize her job or her health? That he wished he could be by her side when she needs someone, or just to make her laugh, or just to look at her…?

Was that possible that he had developed a soft spot for that witch?

He saw his reflection smiling.

God forgive him, but he had developed a soft spot for her, and _that_ kind of soft spot – the one that makes you smile as a fool just at the thought of the person.

But, well, they saw each other almost everyday. They share the same circle of friends. It was bound to happen, wasn't it? They were normal people, and normal people bond over proximity…

(Dear God! He had thought of her as having friends and as a human being… He was loosing his touch…)

Niles shook his head. He should go to bed and try to sleep. Following that train of thought would just make him even more confused.

He turned his head and looked at his bed. Maybe trying to sleep was not such a good idea, once he had been dreaming about her often, in the last months.

(And most of those were maddening erotic dreams, that have been disturbing his sleep patterns, arising all sorts of fantasies and making him worry about his interactions with her at daylight.)

He put the mug on his nightstand and rested his forehead against the cold glass. He had taken a decision, some moments ago. It had been very brave. Why was he feeling so frustrated and couldn't help but rewind their encounter on his mind, then?

Everything was so vivid, yet…

**ncncncncnc**

He had felt impatient all day and, to add insult to injury, couldn't sleep for hours after going to bed.

Niles simply couldn't stop thinking of how this Christmas would probably be boring to death, with Mister Sheffield and Miss Fine advancing slowly but steadily to a happy end, the children all with promising futures, the Fine Family schemes, while he kept just observing, pretending he was totally satisfied.

As if he could be, with Babcock going home alone every night, letting him behind to be alone as well.

When he saw her tiredly walking through the door, it felt wrong. Deep inside he felt like it was up to him to do something.

Their interactions had built such a delicate thing that he wished he could do it in a special way, but he didn't know where to begin… He couldn't see the right moment. Sometimes she was too aggressive, sometimes there was no light in her eyes, sometimes someone interrupted a good moment between them…

He had descended the stairs to the kitchen and to make a mug of hot tea, drink and relax, because all he could remember from this first Monday of December was Babcock's tired and sad face when she said she would work until later, to which Maxwell just answered 'All right, CC, go ahead without me' and got out of the office with Miss Fine.

The irony of Maxwell being in a first name basis for years with her and not caring, while Niles still just dared to call her by nicknames when he felt really bold, did not escaped him.

In fact, it made Niles so upset that he didn't even made the obvious joke about her starting without their boss; he just got out.

In a flash, he had wondered what would happen if he decided to stay in the office with her, just to make her stop working for a while. Maybe they would chat about this and that, and then he would see she was relaxed enough to keep on going, and he would smile at her and get out, letting her work a bit more.

And then, later, he would interrupt her again with something she liked to eat. And she would grin at him, happy with the attention and finally noticing him a positive way…

(What was he thinking? He still had to wish she didn't glare when he entered a room!)

He gave up the idea, and exited the office when images of other things he could do to relax her started invading his brain.

He left her there, alone, because he didn't know what else he could do.

The idea that he could have changed everything with a simple move he never made was sickening, but the thought of putting her so off balance she would really hate him was even worst.

Niles sighed and took the hot water. How many times had he prepared the tea for her? How many times had he offered it with what he hoped was a soft look? How many times had he tried to conceal the fact he kept observing her expression to see if he had made it the way she liked?

Too many times.

The denial didn't serve him anymore, but it was easier to keep the bantering, and swear that he had put a dirty sock in her coffee, just to make her pay attention to what she was drinking.

Just to try to make her pay attention to something he had made thinking of her.

Well, now his mug was ready, and he had to stop torturing himself if he wanted to sleep at all, tonight.

Niles was slowly going to the back stairs again, when the beast herself appeared in the kitchen.

She seemed even more tired than before. Niles guessed she had worked non-stop, and maybe had come for coffee to keep going.

'Oh', was her first reaction. 'It's you'.

He made a face at her, 'In fact, I'm not here. It's just your imagination'.

'You're saying that because you think I'll ask for something, don't you? You're lazier than I thought', she said it with a surprising easy smile, walking slowly to sit next to the island.

He soon was in the opposite side of the island, waiting for her to ask whatever it was that she wanted.

(Yes, he was hooked to her like that – incapable of moving on, in fact.)

Niles was going to offer some coffee to justify his permanence there when she resumed her talking, 'Besides the laziest person around, you're a paranoid, too. I would never imagine _you_, if I were to hallucinate about a man in a dark mansion'.

It was just a regular zinger, even a slightly ambiguous one, but it made his heart ache in a strange way.

In a second, he had a lot of zingers ready in his head, involving Nosferatu and Dracula and series of other monsters of the darkness, but he couldn't bring himself to use any of them. He was upset by the idea of her wishing to fantasize about any other man, and probably Maxwell, when she had _him_.

Because, yes, she _had_ him.

Niles put the mug on the island, noticing his hands were shaking a bit.

He didn't know what he was going to say, but his chest was constricted, and he felt like he would go crazy if he didn't tell her something of what was going through his mind.

He circled the island, stopping by her side, and told her, in a pleading tone that made her stare at him in surprise. 'I'm tired of it'.

It was evident she wanted to hide her reaction, because after a moment she just sat in a slight more rigid posture, not quite facing him. 'Tired of what? Being bossed around? That's not what you live for?'

'In fact, I live for the sensation of seeing you every day'.

Niles couldn't believe he had said that. He couldn't believe he was thinking along those lines – although nothing had ever sounded so true.

She turned to him and made a face like she was going to say something, but he raised a hand and she kept silent.

She was surprisingly understanding of how serious he was about this, and he was surprisingly nervous about his own thoughts.

He lowered the hand, resting it on the island, 'I'm tired of pretending'.

Her eyes went wide.

His were on the distance between their hands, 'Since I've met you, I'm fighting this feeling of how amazing you are. In the first years, I tried to rationalize what I felt and decided it was hate, because you were so cold and snobbish and immature it couldn't be any other thing'.

He could fell CC's eyes glued to his face, following his expressions; Niles knew he was probably showing how disturbed he was feeling, but he couldn't care less – he had began, and now he had to finish it.

'Then, and specially in the last years, I realized we are very similar: we are stubborn, we like to challenge people and be challenged…', his right hand went to her hand, slowly, on the island, and he almost touched it, but then breathed deeply and stopped it, giving up. 'You're looking for a man who can understand your need of control and sometimes point that out to you; I'm looking for a woman with sophistication and this special spark of humor and wickedness you have…'

She turned totally to him, making Niles' heart beat faster. Maybe she would beat him, or she was preparing to flee, or to give him a nasty answer.

He had to do something to show her he was really serious. More than this, that he was trying to be… closer.

His left hand went to her hair, and he softly caressed it. Finally looking at her face, he saw she was looking at him with open curiosity.

Feeling brave, he let his hand come down to her neck, and she almost closed her eyes in pleasure, what made him get closer, 'Every time we agree over something, or watch Spanish soaps together, or simply laugh together, or are the only ones in the room who can see how ridiculous something is, I keep thinking why we are still so apart…'

Feeling his breath on her face was too much, apparently, because she now parted her lips and a low moan was heard.

Niles found it the most arousing scene he's ever seen, and knew that was the opportunity he had to take.

He approached slowly, taking her hand on the island in his; then, he touched her cheek with his.

He waited until he was sure she wasn't pushing him away, and then started grazing her cheek with his lips.

He approached her mouth, taking his time to savor her skin and feel her perfume but, mainly, to give her time to get used to his proximity and to say _no_, in case she came to her senses and wanted to.

But she didn't.

When his lips reached hers, he just had to apply the slightest of pressures, and she brought her tongue to greet him.

He felt dizzy for a moment: he always fantasized about this with her reciprocating.

And now she did, and with such a passion he never expected, because they were both sober and willing, and because he had just poured his heart to her, and she would never have a better opportunity to make him feel like a fool…

What seemed to be very distant of her intentions, right now.

They kissed with a surprising intimacy, delighting in each other as if they knew exactly what to do. Their kiss was not hurried or wild, but delicious in its slow appreciation.

When they stopped, both realized they were panting from pure emotion.

He gave a step behind, breaking contact, and looked her in the eye.

She looked back with her fingers touching her lips, and seemed to be far away from sure of what to say.

Niles got worried, and decided he had pushed too much for the night.

His tone was sweeter than he ever thought he could use with her, when he found his voice. It seemed CC Babcock could bring on everything in him – from the evil prankster to the caring gentleman, 'I just wanted you to know… when you doubt yourself, your beauty, talent, intelligence… that there is someone, closer than you can imagine, that admires you and desires you exactly for what you are'. He gulped. 'Even if he can't say it clearly most of the time'.

And with that he took the mug and exited the kitchen, without looking back.

**ncncncncncnc**

He had said everything he wanted, he had made a dream come true. Now, for sure, he would be able to sleep in peace.

The truth was he couldn't sleep, just thinking of how perfect it was.

Niles was in awe, for it was better than the fantasies: she was passionate, she liked to taste him, she wanted more (her hands and tongue told him that), and if she had said one single word, he would have stayed, kissed her again, embraced her until she could trust him enough to give him the right to be at the receiving end of anything positive she wanted to say to him.

But she never said anything.

And he thought it was better to go and left her alone.

_Wait… what?_

He had left her alone, again.

The realization hit him like a thunder, because the story was repeating itself, and he was making the same mistake again, finally saying what he thought she needed to hear, but letting her there, alone, in the darkness, while he came to his bedroom to hide from the emotions he had just exposed.

Niles run to his door and opened it, decided to look for her, wishing she was still in the house, so they could talk about it and make things clearer, or…

The open door revealed she had had the same idea.

Face to face, surprised by her presence, he found himself just saying a stupid 'Miss Babcock…?'

'Well, you never made a mug for me, so I came to ask'.

He blinked and opened his mouth, but no sound came from it. His first impulse was to answer something in the lines of _I'm not your servant_, but it felt inadequate, now.

She smiled wickedly at his rare silence, 'Yes, Bell Boy, it's me. And you… which Niles are you?'

He licked his lips, trying to focus on her words and not in her moving lips, 'What do you mean?'

She blushed, noticing his stare on her. How was it she had never noticed how heated it was?, 'There was a guy downstairs. He told me things no one has ever told me. He kissed me and said he wanted me for what I am. Are you that guy still, or you are the same Niles I'm used to? The one of the pranks and zingers?'

His heart was beating like it wanted to make him deaf, and he let again it rule his words, 'It's all the same, you stupid woman. He is just too damn coward, and it required a lot of Christmas negative feelings to make him have the guts to say out loud how he really feels about you'.

She smiled at him. 'It was very brave of him to tell me those things, knowing I'm such a powerful witch'.

'Yes, he knows how powerful your charms are', he said and reached for her hands, 'But he will say it again, if you want to hear'.

She gulped, looking at their joined hands. 'I don't think I need to hear it again. I'm ready for more than words'. She gave a step forward, what made his bodies touch slightly. 'And stop the _he_ thing. Now I'm sure I want _you_'.

He opened his mouth, and closed it again, pulling her in his embrace.

He chuckled at the feeling of her pushing him behind, so they could close the door of his room behind them.

The last coherent thought he had was that there were certain times when words are very much needed, and other times when they are not.

However, what can never lack is good will. Just then people can really have the peace they wish.


End file.
